


Ready or Not

by QueenOfRohirrim



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Brothers, But he still loves his pups, Family Fluff, Gen, Hide and Seek, Jaskier bonding with Geralt’s pack, Lambert is a brat, M/M, Papa Vesemir needs a drink, Roughhousing, Witcher style
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:47:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23981815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfRohirrim/pseuds/QueenOfRohirrim
Summary: Geralt and his brothers are playing their own, more physically dangerous version of hide and seek.Somehow Jaskier gets roped into joining and he was not prepared.
Relationships: Eskel & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Lambert, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Lambert, Jaskier | Dandelion & Vesemir
Comments: 15
Kudos: 585





	Ready or Not

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much again to everyone leaving me feedback and reading these stories!!! I’m so happy you’re enjoying them!

“Geralt! Geralt! Stairs! Stairs!” Lambert cried urgently.

The struggle he and Eskel were making on the second floor landing was audible throughout the castle, as was Geralt’s bounding up the steps to aid his little brother.

“Dammit, Lambert! Get off!” Eskel demanded, cursing then when Geralt jumped and tackled him to the ground.

“Finally! He almost got away!” Lambert complained.

“Just for whining, you’re next.” Geralt declared. 

“Twenty seconds, little wolf! Better make them count!” Eskel chuckled wickedly.

Jaskier was utterly confused as he listened to the ongoing commotion from the library. 

“So, just for the sake of my own curiosity...” He began to ask Vesemir, stacking a few old books back onto a lower shelf as he spoke. “What exactly are they doing now?”

The old witcher chuckled. “Well, I’m not exactly sure about the finer details of the game.” He admitted, wiping down another case before he tried to began reorganizing its contents. “I believe it’s a bit like hide and seek.”

Jaskier almost let out a very loud laugh at that and he probably would have if he weren’t so confused.

“So they’ve just added in the chasing each other around the castle and tackling everyone to the ground when you find them?” The bard inquired. 

“That’s the essence of it.” Vesemir nodded, still grinning. “They try to stay hidden for as long as possible. Once they’re found the seekers hunt them down.”

Jaskier opened his mouth to question the father witcher again before Lambert came running through the open library doors and leaped up onto an old writing desk near the window.

From there, he jumped again, grabbing onto a high shelf and pulling himself up to sit upon it.

“Child! Off the damn shelves!” Vesemir scolded him. 

The sound of hurried footsteps started in their direction and Lambert groaned, jumping down from the shelf again and running for the doors. “Thanks a lot! Now you’ve told them where to look for me!”

It wasn’t long before there was a loud crash from the main hall where the two seekers had managed to subdue their prey.

Vesemir sighed and shook his head. “I’ve brought this on myself, I suppose.” He admitted. “I handed that damn hour glass over to Eskel when he asked. Should’ve made him tell me what he needed it for.”

Jaskier smiled, picking up more books to set back on his newly cleaned and dusted shelf. “I do find it quite amusing that they’re still so eager to play these games with each other.” He confessed. “It’s rather sweet.”

Vesemir hummed in agreement, nodding to Jaskier in a true Geralt fashion.

“I do like to see them getting along.” He said then. “It’s good to have them all under one roof as well. I worry about my boys, all out on their own paths until winter comes again.”

Jaskier frowned, continuing to work as they talked. “I couldn’t imagine.” He shook his head. “I’d fret myself into an early grave in your position.”

“Well, it certainly hasn’t made me any younger.” Vesemir hummed again. 

Eskel barged in then, looking desperately to Jaskier. “Did Geralt come through here?” He asked him.

Jaskier shook his head. “Sorry.” He apologized. “I’d definitely give him up if he were here, but no, I haven’t seen him.”

“Eskel!” Lambert shouted from somewhere else in the castle. “He’s heading your way! Catch him!”

“Shit...” Eskel turned and bolted, running into Geralt right outside of the library doors and wrestling him onto the ground. “Ha! Gotcha!” He boasted as Geralt tried to shove him off. “Lambert! I’ve got him!”

“Hold him down! I’ve gotta tag him!” Lambert replied, his voice getting closer and closer until he too was jumping onto Geralt.

“Fuck!” Geralt cursed at the second impact, drawing laughter from both of his brothers.

“Alright, let him up.” Vesemir called out to his sons.

Eskel and Lambert obeyed, climbing off of their brother, only for Eskel to take off running towards the main hall again.

“I don’t want anyone running on my dining table!” Vesemir called after them once all three had disappeared again.

Jaskier’s eyes had widened, watching Geralt being pulled to the ground so easily by his brother.

“They never seem to tire.” He observed, finally turning back to his previous task. 

“Oh no.” Vesemir shook his head. “Never. They’d chase each other through these halls all day and night if I allowed it, but I don’t want them tearing the place apart.”

“Hopefully this snow will let up soon.” Jaskier smiled.

“My thoughts exactly.” Vesemir agreed, moving on to a new shelf and taking all of its books down. “Once the storm’s had its fun, I’ll send the three of them on an actual hunt. Let them tire themselves out.”

It wasn’t long before Lambert came running into the library again, once more jumping up onto the old desk and then climbing onto the higher shelves. He kept going up this time, until he’d reached the very highest one, then sat down to catch his breath, looking down over the room from far above.

“Lambert!” Vesemir snapped at the youngest witcher. “Dammit, Pup! What did I just tell you!?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. “Stay off the damn shelves!” I heard you.” Jaskier had to bite his lip when Lambert impersonated his father’s voice to repeat the previous warning.

“Get down from there then!” Vesemir growled at his son, for now choosing to ignore the rude impression.

“Come on! Geralt and Eskel can’t get up here to reach me!” Lambert complained. “Just let me wait out the next few minutes?”

“No.” Vesemir’s eyes narrowed. “Now get down from there! I won’t say it again.”

Lambert sighed and climbed back down. “No jumping on the shelves, boy!” Lambert began to mock the elder wolf again. “You might accidentally have too much fun. And then where would you be?”

Vesemir sent the giggling witcher a warning glare as he finally jumped down to the floor. “Out.” He demanded, pointing the way to the door. “I’ve had enough for one day. You’re pushing your luck.”

“Alright, I’m going.” Lambert assured him, slipping stealthily from the room and waiting to enter the corridor until he was certain that Geralt and Eskel weren’t near.

Jaskier snorted, getting back to work again. “You know...” He said to Vesemir, wiping down the wood of the bookcase he was working on. “I wish people could see you all together. Just like this. I wish they could see how witchers are no different from them...minus the superior strength and agility and enhanced senses of course.”

“Good of you to hope for us, lad.” His elder companion grunted. “But I’m afraid there’s just no changing a portrait once it’s dried and hung on the wall for centuries.” 

Jaskier frowned. “Well, I’ll hope all the same.” He said sadly. “I do adore your family. This place. It’s a finer home than most humans could hope for.”

Vesemir hummed, eager to change the subject then, and Jaskier didn’t fight it when he did.

They spent a good part of the afternoon there in the library, listening to the three younger wolves chase each other through the keep.

Eventually, the peaceful conversation they’d been carrying on was halted yet again by Geralt and Eskel, who rushed in looking panicked, angry, and somewhat confused.

Vesemir looked up to his eldest boys. “Looking for something, pups?” He inquired.

Jaskier laughed at Geralt’s frustrated expression. He looked like he was about to explode if they didn’t prevail in their seeking soon.

“We can’t find Lambert.” Eskel told Vesemir. “There’s only about five minutes left to do it and we’ve lost his scent completely.”

Vesemir nodded, setting down the duster he’d been using for the book cases and turning to face his boys. “Let’s think about this for a moment.” He told them. “If you were Lambert, where do you think you would go? Think hard, now. Try to put yourselves in his place. His mind. What would you do to avoid being caught?”

“I’d play dirty.” Eskel replied almost immediately, and Geralt grunted in agreement. 

“Very good.” Vesemir nodded. “Now, with that in mind, go find your brother. I’ll not have him looking smug and boastful at the dinner table tonight.”

The two nodded and hurried off again, splitting up to check opposite ends of the castle.

“Little shit’s out foxed them. Poor lads.” Vesemir sighed then and Jaskier began to chuckle.

“Credit where credit is due,” He shrugged. “Geralt and Eskel are a lot bigger than Lambert, yet he’s going to win the game. Quite an impressive feat.”

The old wolf cracked a smile. “He’s a sharp little thing.” He admitted with pride. 

Jaskier smiled at the fondness in the witcher’s voice.

He loved his sons dearly. 

...

They finished their job in the library just a moment later, and Vesemir offered to make them a pot of hot tea before dinner.

Jaskier couldn’t refuse that, of course, so now he waited in the common area in the main hall, sitting in a cozy armchair near the fire while Geralt and Eskel finally decided to meet and accept defeat.

“Little twat...” Geralt growled, watching the hour glass that sat next to Vesemir’s chair. It was nearly empty now.

“I don’t know where else he could have gone.” Eskel sighed, running a hand over his face in frustration. “We looked everywhere and I can’t even pick up a scent anymore!”

“Well he couldn’t have just disappeared, my dears.” Jaskier snorted from his seat.

“Well, we’ll find out soon enough.” Eskel muttered.

“Hmm.” Geralt hummed angrily as the last of the sand emptied into the bottom of the glass. 

The game was over, and they had lost.

“Fuck.” Geralt snarled.

“Alright, runt!” Eskel called out. “Time’s up! You’ve fooled us! Now come on out!”

Jaskier looked around diligently, curious to know where Lambert would appear from after his rather impressive vanishing act.

Vesemir came from the kitchens to investigate as well, and they all waited for another long few minutes before the front doors opened and the youngest witcher stepped in out of the snow.

“Fuck!” His teeth chattered as he stood before them shivering, his clothes and hair all covered in ice and flurries. “Don’t even try going out there! Fucking cold...”

Geralt growled angrily and Eskel’s eyes widened. 

“Pup! Just what on earth possessed you to sit out in that storm!?” Vesemir demanded.

“I wanted to win.” Lambert sniggered, still trembling from the cold as he crossed the room to the fire. “Worth it, by the way. Get a look at these two...You gonna be alright, Geralt? You don’t look too happy.”

The white haired witcher bared his teeth. 

“You went out that fucking window, you little prick!” He turned to Eskel then with a glare. “What did I say!? I knew I smelt him there! We should’ve looked!”

“Well, sorry for trying to give him the benefit of the doubt I guess.” Eskel sighed. “Didn’t think he’d go that far to cheat.”

“Mistake.” Lambert huffed, trying to warm his frozen self at the foot of the hearth. “A shameful mistake, Eskel.”

“Lambert go change!” Vesemir demanded. “You’ll freeze to death if you sit there in those wet clothes!”

“Your fault...” The smallest wolf grinned, basking in the fire’s heat for a little while longer. “I wanted to hide out on the library shelves, but no. Papa wouldn’t allow it.”

Vesemir growled and retreated back to the kitchens, grumbling under his breath.

...

After dinner, the wolves went back to hunting.

True to Vesemir’s word, they never tired of their game, chasing each other through the castle for another two hours before they finally stopped to take a short breather.

Jaskier wouldn’t lie to himself. A whole day without Geralt at his side, lavishing him with attention was starting to make him a little bit jealous.

Of course, Geralt soon picked up on that. Something with his witchery senses was to thank, Jaskier was sure. However, the manner in which his beloved decided to finally pay him mind was a bit...unexpected.

“You’re lonely.” Geralt hummed, taking Jaskier’s hand into his own and gently guiding him up from the chair he’d been lounging in. “I’m sorry. I’ve been ignoring you.”

“Well, yes, lovely, you have.” Jaskier agreed. “But that’s alright. You do only have Winters to be with your family. I get to have you all to myself the rest of the year.”

“Gross.” Lambert gagged.

Eskel kicked him to shut him up.

“We’ve been talking.” Geralt continued then, stroking a thumb over Jaskier’s cheek as he pulled him close. “And we’ve all agreed that you should join in this next game.”

The Bard froze.

“Wh...What?” He whimpered. “Geralt...I...You want me to...”

“Rules are easy to follow, Jaskier.” Eskel promised. “If your the runner, you hide and hope we don’t find you for awhile. If we do, try to escape to hide somewhere else. All the chasers have to do is look for the runner and catch them.”

Jaskier tensed at the thought of being chased down and possibly taken to the floor by three very fast, and very large witchers.

“I...Uh...It’s very kind of you to offer, truly.” He assured Geralt’s brothers. “But I’m afraid...I fear I wouldn’t have much of an aptitude for this sort of competition. Especially not against you three...impeccably formed gentlemen.”

A blush crept over his face immediately when he’d realized his choice of words were a bit less than subtle, and Lambert let out a short laugh.

“Impeccably formed.” He held his head high. “I like that. Geralt, you might have to keep your little lark under lock and key. He’s certainly knows how to sweet talk a man.”

“Enough.” The white wolf growled, placing one hand on Jaskier’s shoulder and one on his waist, squeezing gently. “They won’t hurt you.” He promised, eyes of molten gold looking down softly into Jaskier’s own lively blues. “You’ll get a longer head start than us to hide, and no one will be rough with you.”

“We can be real gentle.” Lambert chimed in, earning another kick from Eskel.

Jaskier looked upward to Geralt again, unsure. “No tackling?” He asked. “No pinning me to the ground? No witcher pile on my back?” He asked.

“No.” Geralt smiled fondly, leaning to kiss his bard’s forehead. “None of that. You have my word.”

Jaskier took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, dragging up every bit of courage he could find within his being. “Fine.” He accepted at last. “I’ll play.”

Geralt nodded and kissed him again. “You’ll enjoy it.” He assured him.

“We still get to kick each other’s asses, right?” Lambert piped up again. “It’s just the bard that’s off limits?”

...

Jaskier held his breath as he settled into the back corner of a wardrobe in one of the tower’s empty bedrooms.

He could hear the witchers running around down below in the castle’s lower halls, and it sounded like at least one of them was making his way up the stairs.

“Fuck.” He whimpered, wondering why he’d ever agreed to do this. 

His heart hammered in his chest and every sound that came from outside his hideaway had him flinching to attention. It felt as if he was actually being hunted, and even though he knew that none of these men would ever lay a finger on him, he hoped that Geralt would be the one to find him anyway.

“I smell that fancy soap and flower oil.”

Shit. Lambert was close.

“Jaskier?” The young witcher called. It sounded like he’d reached the top step. He’d be on his way down the hall now. “You up here, little lark? It sure smells like you are.”

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck...” Jaskier muttered to himself before he remembered that witcher hearing was a thing. He clammed up then and didn’t dare to make another sound.

“Ah, this is where it’s coming from...” The door to the bedchamber opened. “Gross, you smell like Geralt too...You under the bed, bard?...Nope. Not there...” 

The doors to the wardrobe were pulled open then and Jaskier was suddenly face to face with a grinning wolf.

“Caught ya!” Lambert declared, offering a hand to the bard. “Come on. Get out of there. I’m not gonna bite.”

It came back to Jaskier suddenly that this was all just a game and he breathed a sigh of relief, taking Lambert’s hand and allowing him to help him climb from the wardrobe.

“Nice spot.” The witcher hummed. “Doubt I could fit there though.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t keep the wolves at bay.” The bard laughed awkwardly. “Witcher senses...I don’t know why I’m doing this, honestly. It’s not exactly a challenge for you three.”

“No.” Lambert agreed, another wicked grin beginning to spread across his face. “But now that I’ve found you, you could help me get a rise out of Geralt.” 

Jaskier’s eyes widened. “I...I don’t...What do you mean?” He stuttered. He could already tell it wasn’t a good idea but it would be impolite to refuse without at least an explanation.

“Nothing too terrible.” Lambert promised. “I was just gonna carry you down the stairs. That’d piss old silver locks off just enough for my liking.”

Jaskier thought about it. For some foolish reason he was actually fucking considering this.

Maybe it was because Geralt had been neglecting him all day. Playing a little trick on him didn’t sound like an awful plan.

“Alright.” The bard bravely agreed. “But if you drop me, I’m going to be angry. Also, if Geralt hits you, I am not to be blamed.”

“Deal.” Lambert nodded, quickly sweeping Jaskier up into his arms in a bridal carry.

“Shit!” He squeaked, and Lambert looked to him with a serious expression.

“Hold on tight.” The Witcher advised.

Jaskier clung to him for dear life, letting out another yelp when Lambert took off at a sprint to the lower halls.

“I’ve got the bard!” He shouted as he ran, leaping past the last few steps and turning Jaskier’s stomach in the process. “Geralt! Geralt! I’ve got your bard! Look!”

“Geralt!” Jaskier squealed, looking to his white wolf when Lambert presented him at the doorway to the dining hall.

The older witcher growled viciously at his brother. “Put him down.” He commanded Lambert, who shook his head.

“Nope. He’s my bard now.” The smaller wolf bragged. “If you want him back you’ll have to come get him!”

And just like that, they were off again, Jaskier clutching tightly to Lambert’s shoulders as the Witcher evaded his livid sibling.

“Eskel!!!” Geralt shouted while he chased after Lambert, following him down every corridor and over every obstacle that the young witcher managed to leap past.

Soon the third wolf had joined the hunt as well, attempting to cut Lambert off at the top of the staircase that led down to the hot springs. He failed, of course. Lambert was incredibly agile and managed to slip past, still holding Jaskier.

The bard let out another squeak of alarm when his captor, again, leaped down from the middle of the stairs and onto the lowest floor of Kaer Morhen.

“Sorry!” He apologized quickly, hurrying down the hall to the hot springs. “Had to get some more distance between us.”

Jaskier was relieved to be set down once they’d reached the end of their course.

“You alright?” Lambert asked. Obviously Jaskier looked just the way he felt. A bit nauseous and unsure whether to laugh or shout.

“Fine.” He finally spoke, reaching out to brace himself against the stone wall. “Just...I feel a bit sick...No...No no, I’m alright now.” He stood up straight again and took in a few deep breaths.

Lambert clapped him on the shoulder and smiled. “You’re not so bad, I suppose.” He admitted. “Thanks for the help.”

Jaskier gave a small smile in return.

Though he really did want to smack Lambert for his little stunt, he also knew a good opportunity when he saw one. Lambert was finally warming up to him, it seemed, and Jaskier didn’t want to ruin that.

“No trouble at all.” The bard assured the young witcher. “Just...maybe a warning next time? Didn’t know we were running.”

Lambert laughed before Geralt and Eskel came stomping in through the doorway.

“Come here, you little prick!” The white wolf snarled, approaching his brother with clenched fists.

“Geralt!” Jaskier stopped him, stepping between the two. “Geralt, don’t! I agreed to this! It was a joke!”

The silver witcher stopped, looking down to his bard with a deep frown.

“We didn’t mean any harm.” Jaskier promised him, placing his hands gently onto his lover’s shoulders and lightly stroking downward to calm him. 

It seemed to do the trick. Geralt relaxed slowly and the angry frown faded into a more annoyed expression as he looked past Jaskier to Lambert. 

“Corrupting him with your childish tricks?” He huffed, taking Jaskier’s hand in his much larger one to lead him away. 

“I think you’ve corrupted him enough, Geralt.” Lambert snorted, paying no mind to Eskel, who had snuck up behind him. “He absolutely reeks of your...Fuck! Eskel! Don’t!”

“This is what happens when you’re not nice, little wolf.” The elder witcher grinned, happily tossing his little brother into the hot water.

Lambert came back up spitting and coughing. “You dickhead!” He shouted.

“Yeah yeah. Get up.” Eskel laughed, reaching to pull the younger witcher back out of the steaming pool. “Your the runner next. Geralt says so.”

“Twenty seconds.” Geralt grunted, leading Jaskier back down the long hall to the stairs.

“Now!? I have to change first!” Lambert complained. 

“Better hurry then.” Eskel laughed.

“Fuck you!” Lambert hissed back at him, shaking all the water he could out of his clothes.


End file.
